


*A Cursed Blessing*

by raven716



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-06 07:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21223139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven716/pseuds/raven716
Summary: You never understood why you had to live away from others and not allowed to mingle with them really, why your father only came every once and awhile to visit you, why some lady doctor would check you over, or why you had to take some strange medicine or have your teeth filed down. It was like this for so long, until one faithful day, you stumbled upon a boy who was cursed with loneliness like yourself. He had a strange crest on his shirt, that didn't stop you from taking him in. In spite of that, you where left alone again. Until, years passed and everything became clear.You soon understood why you where curse with loneliness.When all you wanted was company.





	*A Cursed Blessing*

_ ** *A Cursed Meeting* ** _

It was a chilled afternoon when you came across a teen boy about two to three years older than you, laid face down on the side of the road, from the local market. He had messy and unkept brown hair covering his face, that didn't hide the small bruises, scraps and dirt that you saw. It was clear he was either in a fight by the way he looked and the messiness of his clothes, or he was a bagger. Then again the strong smell of alcohol emanating off him, that you clasped a hand over your mouth and nose, spoke drunk.

How could he be drunk at such an age, you thought. He was nothing but a child himself, that life seem to hit hard. You couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for him, looking around wondering where he came from and that maybe someone might claim him. See no one for miles.

He was alone, how awful, you wept silently, setting the basket you carried down next to him, tucking your long dark brown skirt under, and kneeled down. With two fingers you put them under his nose and get a faint breath of air from him. Good, he was alive. 

Heavily drunk, but alive. Smiling quietly, it dawned on you that he couldn't be left here like this. Who knows what would happen. Not to mention the chill and frost was beginning to settle in, he'd freeze to death out here. The best thing you could think of was to get him somewhere warm and safe. You knew just the place. Standing, you gather your basket, bend down once again, and reach out a hand to the boy.

***

* * *

A wonderful warm delicious harvest smell, filled the boy's nose and snapped open his sullen blue eyes wide open like a quicken flame. The last thing he remembered was...something horrible, after that it was nothing drink after drink, after drink, the world swirling, and a fist. Until everything went black. He didn't remember...this as his surroundings. Sitting up carefully, found himself laid on some blankets, he held himself steady, the affects of his drinking still lingered, his throbbing head reminded him. Keeping himself steady, began looking around. 

Cobbled stone walls decorated lightly make-shift curtains on the windows, small objects on the wall, one stood out it looked like a cross but had a loop replacing the top, a few instruments in the corner, a few bookshelves with books on them, the space was enclosed, there was a small hall led to the back. He couldn't see much except there was one closed door. The place seem a bit worn down, the walls seemed chipped and cracked, yet it still looked cleaned. Even the small little dinning area that was also a kitchen it seemed. The hearth had a fire going, over it hanging a covered casket iron pot, where the delicious smell was coming from. 

It caused a loud growl from the boy's stomach. 

That's right he hadn't eaten anything really. Just...drinking. Guess it would be good to eat. Tossing off the blanket that covered him, stands, wobbled a bit, and nearly fell back if not for two arms that caught him in a kind and gentle hold from behind. Who ever it was, held him well and firm. Even hosted him back to his feet, remained supporting him so he wouldn't tipsy again.

"What the-?" he muttered, a tad confused if surprised. He hadn't heard a single sound that indicated someone was here. He thought this whole time he was alone. Turning around to see who this extra person was, finds two of the warmest deep colored amber staring into his blue ones, filled with worry. His heart for a moment froze at the meeting of eyes.

The cottage was warm already, but it seemed to have gotten warmer. Or it had to be still the lasting effects of the alcohol because a flush spread across his nose. He had to break away, whipping his head to the left, covering his mouth with a hand. Took a moment muttering somethings, before turning back to those eyes, that stared back a brow raised and confusion crossed in their eyes. They were so wide and warm, that's what he saw and could describe them. They went well with the rest, of her, her brown skin that reminded him of the healthy browns of a sunset, and her dark, rather thick and curly wine colored hair. She kept pulled back into a low bun. Her heart-shaped face was framed by the few strands that fell to the side. 

She looked at least two or three years younger than himself. Quite petite in size, going up to his chest, also her skirt and blouse seem a tada big and loose on her. But it wasn't enough that it'd fall off.

How in the world was she able to hold him up? He wondered, actually better question was where was he?

And-

His stomach let out a loud growl, your eyes dropped to it, red crossed his face more. He was hungry, letting him go point the pile of blankets for him to sit, hurry over to the stove. He plopped down with a huff and watched you go collect two bowls, two spoons, and a ladle. Setting the items down, carefully you take off the top of the lid, the aroma became even stronger, the boy's growl erupted more. It was hard not to smile, taking the ladle, you fill the bowls, set the lid back on, pick the bowls up and walk over to him. He looked at you with an arched brow.

You hold out the bowl for him.

Insisting he take it.

"Umm," he said taking it, casting a look to the side. "thanks."

Happy he took it, sit before him. It was quite besides the rustling night winds outside. Thank goodness the hearth was going and the stew took the chill off. It was delicious if you had to say so yourself.

Not that he didn't mind the quite, the boy still had questions to be answered and clearly you were the only one who answer them. Clearing his throat, stopped eating. "So, where am I?"

You stop and look at him, with a finger point all around then to yourself. He wasn't sure what you meant, so you do it again, and once more.

He rose a brow. Took a guess. "Your, home?" you nod. Eating a spoonful. "I figured that, I meant to say where am I? Where are we? Better, what's your name?" He pointed his spoon at you. 

He wanted to know your name? That was fine, setting your bowl and spoon down, get up and walk away for a moment. The boy watched you cocking his head a bit, as you shuffle through some things and pull out a piece of paper, some ink and a quill. For about a minute you scribe something down, set the quill down, turn around and go back holding the paper out to him. 

His brow rose in confusion. Still, he read it. "May Bishop? Why didn't you just say that?"

Your eyes drop a bit to the side, he seem to understand, and cursed himself mentally. Until he felt something poke him. It was you, poking. Then pointing to yourself, then back to him. 

It took him a moment, but he understood what you wanted and sighed. "Nope." He said flatly. 

How rude, that didn't stop you from poking him, until he told you. It was only proper. He did his best to build up a resistance, but, it only lasted for so long. If the only way he could eat his stew in peace was to tell you, then fine!

"Alright!" 

He swatted your hand away lightly. Grunted. 

"Enough, I'll tell you." He grumbled for a bit, scratching the back of his head, looking away. Avoiding those big bright eyes of yours and hiding the light dusted red forming across his cheeks. "It's Trevor, Trevor Belmont."

_Trevor Belmont, _you thought smiling inside warmly, _Trevor Belmont._


End file.
